Regeneration
by The Pickle System
Summary: The final moments of the 11th Doctor. Written by Flame.


**AN:** Well… I am dearly sorry for the absence, and I am aware that it's been a few year too long since I did anything on FF. Welp, I should be getting back to my old stories sometime soon, so don't worry. ~Flame

_(sigh) I always manage to survive. Always. I outlive all of my closest friends, my children, my wife. No relationship will ever be permanent for me. I suppose it's better than ending it all. Hmm, what would that feel like? Just dying, peacefully, my mind left to the wind, and probably dragged to the deepest pits of hell and tortured. Contemplating that thought again, I guess Regeneration is better._

These were some of the last thoughts of the Raggedy Man, as he walked up the interior stairs of his TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, turning around after hearing his footsteps.

_ She thinks it worked out. All my companions seem to do that, usually right before their demise. Well at least Clara will make it out of this one…_

"Hello." The Doctor replied, a sad tone in his voice. He knew his fate, and he knew that the clock would strike twelve any moment now.

"You're young again… You're okay. You didn't even change your face." Clara said with a smile. She was nearly gleeful at the thought of them living through all of this.

_The naiveté of humans sometimes… Maybe I'm just a pessimist… Granted that could be changing any second now, so I guess I should enjoy it while it lasts._

"Ha…" The Doctor carefully contemplated his next words, these would be his last after all. "It's started; I can't stop it now, this is just the reset."

_I guess it's nice another chance at life, or thirteen I suppose._

"Whole new regeneration cycle ooh," The Doctor said, in the strange, indescribable way he talked. Clara giggled while he took a sip of some leftover soup.

"It's taking a bit longer… Just breaking it in." The Doctor started limping towards the console, where he flicked several levers and engaged flight. The pain started kicking in, and his voice began changing. There was no big scheme, or paradox, or sonic screwdriver that could get him out of this one.

_Oh the voice… Hopefully the rest of my body changes at the same time. It would be quite unusual for a new voice to come out of this mouth…_

The TARDIS was now far away from anything, making it's familiar noise, and ticking like a clock, perhaps symbolic of what was about to happen.

"Oh it just disappears, doesn't it; everything you are gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror." His voice seemed to be back to normal, for the time being. One of the things Clara loved about the Doctor was his occasional eloquence. While she appreciated how poetic he was at that moment, it was slightly unnerving. She knew something was wrong. Her smile faded completely, and her eyes started welling with tears.

"Any moment now, he's a-comin'". Near acceptance. Quite a rare thing for the Doctor. Not just this one, any of them.

"Who's coming?" Clara choked out. She knew what was happening, and nearly burst out crying there.

"The Doctor," He replied, in a melancholy tone.

"**You** are the Doctor." She retaliated.

"Yeah… And I always will be." The Doctor's eyes were now teary, and he could barely hold in his agony. The emotional pain was enough, but the literal feeling of death was sweeping through every part of his body. The familiar noise of regeneration energy could be heard, and the feeling of supernova flowed through all of the Doctor's veins. He looked at his hand. It was glowing yellow now, and his happiness fated even more.

"But times change, and so must I," Clara was biting her upper lip. Blood was dripping into her mouth, but she didn't care. She needed to stay strong, for his sake.

Then the Doctor was surprised by something. He began hallucinating. He turned and saw little Amelia pond running around the TARDIS, with all of her drawings of him decorating the walls.

"Amelia!" The Doctor sadly exclaimed.

"Who's Amelia?" Clara pondered, her sadness temporarily stopped by confusion. No matter how vivid his fantasy was, he was the only one who could see it.

_Well, this is new. I guess my "last" life goes out with a bang. My life is flashing before my eyes, quite a cliché though. I always hated clichés. The new me better not enjoy them…_

"The first face this face saw." The Doctor replied, in a sort of happy way. Clara was glad he was happy, but knew his fate was sealed. He turned back to her and said:

"We all change. When you think about it, we're all different people all through our lives…" The Doctor was gesturing while talking, something that bothered Clara, but she was too sad to think about it at that moment.

"…and that's okay, that's good, you gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be…" Awkward pauses between words were another pet peeve of Clara's, but realizing that these were their last moments together, she wished that she could live through every moment that annoyed her with him again. Anything to stay with him longer.

"I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear." This assurance was mostly to keep her from tears. The Doctor had no idea if he would remember anything after beginning a new cycle of regenerations. It was a new idea to him, and that was almost a foreign concept to the all-knowing always traveling madman. His eyes were watery, and Clara was almost at the point of sobbing. Before his speech could continue, he heard footsteps. He turned and saw **her**. The Girl who Waited. The first of this life, and the last of this life. His closest friend, Amelia Pond.

_NO! DON'T LET GO! I can still remember it all! Amy, and Rory, and River, the Silence, plastic centurions, ALL OF IT! Please no, I… I can't… _

The Doctor thought the denial had passed after the destruction of the Dalek fleet. He thought he could go in peace. While he seemed calm on the outside, he was screaming in his head for there to be another way.

"Raggedy Man…" his Hallucination spoke, "Goodnight."

Then the hallucination stopped, and he felt himself grabbing at thin air.

_There's always another way! You've lived thousands of years in this body, you can control it!_

He tried to reassure himself, but knew this was out of his power. Tears were streaming down Clara's face, as he undid his bowtie, and dropped it to the floor. The TARDIS whirred as his life came to a close. The light got brighter, and the noise got louder. Clara looked at him in desperation and ran towards him.

"No no no!" she sobbed out, reaching for his hand. The Doctor backed away slightly, knowing how dangerous the regeneration energy was.

"Please, just don't change…" she whispered through her tears. The Doctor's thoughts were everywhere, flipping back and forth randomly.

_ Maybe the new one will like bowties… APPLES, YUCK! I could go for some fish fingers and custard. REMEMBER AMY, HOLD ON! YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING, YOU CAN SAVE YOURSELF. THE PONDS, REMEMBER THEM! PONDS-_

Then, for a split second, there was nothing. He wasn't anywhere, at least his mind wasn't. No thoughts, no noise, nothing. His head snapped backwards, then forwards again, and the damage was done.

_Ooh. Pond? What, a fish pond? What in the- Wait who is that. Actually, who am I?_

Clara stopped crying, but started slowly backing away from the old face staring at her. The Doctor was not an older version of himself, he was a new man. Or an old man, depending on how you look at it. He moved in close, and studied her face in awe, like she was a fascinating specimen of some sort. Suddenly he clutched his ribs in pain, and nearly collapsed.

"KIDNEYS!" He choked out, clearly in a lot of pain. "I've got new kidneys!"

_New. That means I had different kidneys. Maybe I should see a doctor. Doctor… Oh right, that. I'm a doctor of something aren't I…_

"I don't like the color." The new man said, clearly displeased with his kidneys.

"Of your kidneys..?" Clara asked, confusion wiping away nearly all sadness she had felt. The TARDIS began whirring and rocking back and forth, nearly throwing both of them off their feet.

"What's happening?!" Clara exclaimed, as the old blue box shook.

"We're probably crashing." The Doctor responded in a loud voice, but not scared, more matter-of-factly. He had a distinct Scottish accent, and it was quite distracting to Clara.

"Into what?" Clara asked, somewhat annoyed, but quite frightened. She got no answer, but his reply was the most unsettling thing she'd heard the Doctor say in quite some time.

"Just one question." the Doctor said, frantically flicking switches, twisting knobs and tapping buttons on the console.

"**Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"**


End file.
